


Blessed Are the Peacemakers

by stayinschoolkids



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Pacifism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-10 13:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20528960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stayinschoolkids/pseuds/stayinschoolkids
Summary: After Ben's daring escape from Lieutenant Gamble, he manages to find safety in the barn of a Quaker family, where he is found and secretly helped by the oldest daughter, Sarah. Sarah begins to fall for the man she saved, but will the truth about Ben jeopardize their relationship? Can Sarah, a staunch pacifist, love a soldier? And will Ben make it back to camp without being caught by Gamble or losing the woman he loves? (This is my alternative to the Ben x Sarah Livingston storyline)





	1. The Color of Hope

_"Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven._

_Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted._

_Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth._

_Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled._

_Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy._

_Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God._

_Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God."_

* * *

The air was cool, and a little damp. Clouds swirled and filled the sky like suds spilled from a bucket. Sarah Parker paid no mind and continued feeding the chickens. They would be hungry no matter the weather and she preferred not to waste her time watching clouds.

Her sister Mary stared at the clouds as she absent-mindedly spread chicken feed.

  
“Do you ever wonder if the clouds mean something?” She spoke like the words were drool were spilling from her mouth.

  
Sarah was in a good mood and decided to entertain her sister’s whimsy. “Like what?”

  
“I don’t know… but they seem hopeful.”

“Hopeful? You think grey clouds look hopeful?”

“Yes.” Mary spoke as if this were obvious. “Grey clouds mean rain and rain brings growth and cleansing.”

“It also brings mud.”

Mary giggled. “Then what do you think the clouds look like?”

Sarah pondered briefly. “They look like dust.”

“And what might that mean?”

“That someone was busy dreaming when she was supposed to be sweeping.”

Mary rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re no fun.”

Sarah finished spreading the chicken feed and dusted her hands off on her apron.  
“I may not be fun, but I’ve finished half my chores while you were busy watching clouds.”

Mary pouted her lip as they began walking back to the house. Sarah stopped to grab their youngest brother who had been playing near them as he was only just old enough to walk. As they made their way back, Sarah noticed her sister nervously chewing her lip.

“What’s wrong?”

Mary chewed harder. “Do you think Daniel will propose”

“Of course he will. He just needs father’s permission.”

“But do you think he will ask for father’s permission?”

“You worry too much. Daniel loves you. I’m sure he is just trying to find the right time.”

“But what if he asks and father says no?”

“Mary, stop worrying! It does you no good.”

“I suppose.”

Sarah could tell her sister was still upset. Mary’s lips formed a pout as she hung the last of the laundry. Sarah sighed.

“Do you want me to spy on Father to know if he and Mother discuss the subject?”

Mary’s face brightened. “I thought you would never offer”

Sarah rolled her eyes as her sister threw her arms around her. Ever since they were children, Mary had been coercing Sarah into playing the spy for her. Though Mary had always been the mischievous one, she had a quick tongue and was dreadful at keeping secrets. Sarah was quiet and unassuming, her true intentions hidden behind her soft brown eyes. Mary could play innocent well enough if she were ever under suspicion, but Sarah was never caught.

Thunder rumbled softly overhead.

“What a hopeful sound,” Sarah said pointedly. “Maybe it means Daniel will come soon.”

The two sisters had reached the house. Sarah was about to close the door when she looked over to the town. They lived on a farm on the outskirts, but they were close enough to usually be aware when something newsworthy was happening. Sarah watched as a small group of men rode into town. Though she could not see their faces or any distinguishing features, something about them unnerved her. Their town rarely got any visitors. The only new arrivals they ever welcomed were the newborn children of the people who had always lived there.  
Sarah’s father was walking to the house when he saw Sarah staring into the distance. He turned to see what she was looking at.

“Who do you think they are?” Sarah asked.

“Travelers, visiting relatives,” Her father guessed “It doesn’t concern us, so why should we worry about it?”

Sarah supposed he had a point, but she did not let go of her suspicions.

* * *

  
As Sarah and Mary helped their mother clear the plates from the table after dinner, there was a knock at the door. Excitement flashed in Mary’s eyes. Sarah and Mary both had the same thought. It must be Daniel there to speak with Mr. Parker. They both followed their father as he left the dining room to open the door.

“Girls!” Their mother chided their intrusion. “Mind yourselves!”

The two sisters remained in the dining room but moved closer to the foyer so they could see what was happening.

Their father opened the door to a group of men. They were dressed in civilian clothes, but the guns in their hands told the family that these men were not here on friendly business.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Parker asked the men indifferently.

The man in the middle smiled an unfriendly smile. A scar stretched down his face. “My name is Lieutenant Gamble, of the King’s Army.”

Mr. Parker looked the man up and down. “You’re not in uniform, lieutenant.”

The officer ignored Mr. Parker and let himself into the house. He looked around the room and at the rest of the Parker family watching from the dining room. Mary grabbed Sarah’s hand. Mrs. Parker put the younger children behind her.

Gamble addressed Mr. Parker again. “I’m looking for a man on the run. Have you seen any strangers around the area?”

“The only strangers we’ve seen around here are you.”

Gamble continued to look around, poking his head into the adjacent sitting room.

“You don’t have to worry about them, sir.” A voice spoke up.

Sarah recognized their neighbor Abraham Longfellow standing behind the men. He continued to vouch for the family.

“The Parkers are Quakers. They’re not going to help anyone involved in the war.”

Lieutenant Gamble continued in his suspicion. “Quakers, you say? All the more reason not to trust them.”

“They’re good people, sir,” Abraham continued. “I’ve known them all my life and I assure you they can be trusted.”

The officer appeared momentarily convinced.

“If you see anything, do report it. We will be in the area until we find the man we are looking for.”

“I assure you we will notify you if there is anything suspicious.”

Mr. Parker decided not to remind the men that being Quakers, they would not be aiding either side in the war. He waited for the men to be well on their way before he closed the door, turned back to his family, and shrugged as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

“Edmund!” Mrs. Parker exclaimed, her face still holding signs of fear. “They could have done something to you!”

Mr. Parker still thought nothing of it. “We’re Quakers. Why should they give us any trouble?”

“You heard him. Many tories still see us as disloyal because we refuse to pledge allegiance to the Crown or any authority.”

Mary was noticeable chewing her lip and kept looking at the door. Her mother noticed and put her arm around her.

“Mary, darling, do not worry yourself about those soldiers,” her mother changed her tone suddenly.

Sarah knew better. She knew Mary could not possibly care less what any soldiers did or thought. She only cared that it had not been Daniel Reed at the door.

* * *

  
Sarah lay quietly in her bed that night, staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep.

“Sarah,” her sister whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” she whispered back.

“Do you think Daniel will come tomorrow?”

Sarah rolled her eyes at her sister’s one track mind.

“If he does not come tomorrow, he will certainly come the next day.”

“I thought he would come tonight, but he didn’t.”

“You need to stop worrying.”

Mary paused for a moment. “Did mother and father say anything about him?”

“No.”

Mary was silent. Sarah thought she had fallen asleep, but she did not hear her sister snore as she usually did.

“Why does it matter to you so much? He told you he loves you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Then he is going to propose, he’s just waiting for the right time.”

“I wish he would realize the right time is much sooner than he thinks.”

“Time does not matter as much as you think.”

“I wish it were that simple.”

By this time, Sarah had begun to grow tired, so she did not question what her sister meant. She waited for her sister to say something else, but instead heard only a faint snore.

Sarah wanted to sleep, but for some reason it would not come. Her eyes felt heavy, but as soon as she closed them, she felt awake. She could not stay in bed like this. She threw her cloak on, hoping that fresh air would help. As she sneaked out the back door, her mind cleared with the smell of dry leaves. She decided she would just walk to the barn and back. Nothing more.  
Sarah was halfway to the barn when she thought she heard a noise. Ordinarily, she would think nothing of it. But there was a fugitive and strange men about. She did not want to risk it. She quickly looked around for a source. When she saw nothing, she pulled her cloak closer to herself and ran for the barn. It felt safer than being out in the open.

It was a short run, but the November air cut at her face and dried her eyes. By the time she closed the barn door, she was gasping. She heard another sound, a faint groan. Sarah held her breath. She had no candle with her so she could not see anything. She silently cursed her foolishness.

There was another groan. Fainter than the last. Sarah decided that the source could not be a danger to her; they sounded hurt. Though the moonlight filtering in through cracks in the barn was the only source of light, Sarah prodded her way around the barn, lightly nudging everything with her toe. Her foot stopped when it met a body. Her hand went to her mouth. She could faintly see the outline of a man lying on a haystack. Steadily, she gained her breath back and kneeled next to the man, checking for a pulse and listening for breathing. Hope surged through Sarah as she felt a faint thump. She ran back to the house and grabbed a lantern, a blanket, a needle, and anything else she thought she might need.

Supplies in hand, Sarah dashed back to the man in the barn. He was hurt. She did not think to question anything else about him. Yes, he could be dangerous, but to leave him like that was just as evil as if she had been the one to injure him herself. She thought of the good Samaritan as she worked. He had been shot and was bleeding through his shirt. She fished the bullet out and dressed the wound quickly. The wound addressed, she looked at him. His eyes slowly fluttered open and Sarah felt her heart quicken. Kind, deep blue eyes looked into hers.  
“Thank you,” he whispered before closing his eyes and falling into a peaceful sleep.  
Sarah decided then that her sister was wrong. Grey clouds were not hopeful. Hope was the color of this man’s eyes, the sky on a clear, autumn day.


	2. Benjamin Brewster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarah revisits Ben after their first encounter and tries to figure out who he is and why a British officer is after him.

Sarah could not sleep, her mind wracked with worry. She worried about the stranger’s health, but she also worried about herself. This man was surely the fugitive that those soldiers had been looking for. What if he was dangerous?

Sarah laughed at herself for the ridiculous thought. Even if he were dangerous, she reminded herself that she had just removed a bullet wound from his side. He was unlikely to be doing anything.

Still, she worried about her family. Men had come to her house just the night before asking about this man. They had been safe as they truly knew nothing about him, but now Sarah was an accomplice. Whoever this man was, she was now a part of his crime. Judging from the lieutenant’s suspicion even after her family was identified to be Quaker, Lieutenant Gamble would not buy her excuse that she had been simply helping a man in distress. Sarah quickly prayed for safety.

Mary must have noticed her sister muttering in bed.

“Sarah? Are you awake?”

Sarah concluded with a hasty “Amen” before turning to her sister.

“I am now,” she said grumpily. “Why do you keep waking me up?”

Mary responded with equal annoyance. “You woke me up with your tossing and turning and your mumbling.”

Sarah made a face. “I was praying.”

For some reason, this excited Mary and she forgot to be annoyed. “Praying? For what? For someone?”

Sarah paled. Did her sister know? How could she know?

“What-what are you talking about?”

Mary smirked. “I knew it! I saw your face light up when you saw Abraham Longfellow last night!”

“Abraham?” Sarah questioned. She barely noticed him ordinarily. When they were younger, he once put a worm in her hair. She had hardly thought of him since then.

Mary looked sure of herself. “Don’t try to deny it. You had such a pleased look on your face when he defended us.”

Sarah was exasperated. “Yes, because I was terrified that that officer was going to hurt Father.”  
“Hmph,” was all Mary answered.

Sarah rolled her eyes. She glanced out the window and saw the sun rising.

“Shite.” Sarah had meant to say it in her head but she meant it so much it escaped her lips. She jumped out of bed and hastily began dressing.

Mary eyed her suspiciously. “You’re in a haste to do some chores this morning.”

Sarah glared as she laced her stays. “It’s not abnormal to want to be productive in the morning and then have the afternoon to myself.”

“Whatever.” Mary brought the covers up over her face.

* * *

When she had finished dressing, Sarah hurried to the barn, bucket in hand. If anyone questioned her, it was not a lie to say that she was milking the cows. Hopefully, they would not notice her pockets hid a clean bandage and some food.

Sarah thrust open the barn door and looked around, trying to find the man from the night before.

“It’s me,” she called out. “The person who saved you.”

She waited a minute. Nothing.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she tried again.

Still nothing. She began to worry. Was he dead? Had all of her efforts been in vain? Oh, God. Would she have to bury this man? What was she supposed to do?

She began to breathe again when she heard a rustle in the haystack. She ran over and cleared some hay until she soon saw those blue eyes once again.

The man just looked at her. Sarah saw fear in his eyes and felt a twinge of relief. He was just as terrified as she was. And, he was alive.

“I brought you some food,” she said, pulling out the bundle she had hidden in her pocket and unwrapping it to reveal bread and a bit of cheese. “I thought you might be hungry. I’m sorry it’s not much.”  
The fear in his eyes faded into relief and hope. He sat up and the hay fell from his body, though some of it was stuck to his clothes. He must have dressed after Sarah left.

“Thank you. For everything,” the man said hoarsely, shyly taking the food that Sarah offered.

“I’m just glad you are alive.”

Sarah looked around nervously, as though someone was going to suddenly burst into the barn.

“I can try to get you some clean clothes,” Sarah offered. “I do not have much, but I can get you a shirt to wear until I can clean and fix up yours.”

“You already saved my life,” the man replied gratefully. “I cannot think to ask for anything more.”

“It’s nothing, really.” This was at least partially a lie. She truly did not want anything in return for helping him, but she knew that her hospitality had to be limited. If she only had herself to worry about, Sarah would do everything she could to help even a stranger, but she could not let her family be caught up in her brash decision to harbor a fugitive.

“I wish I could repay you somehow, but I am afraid I am not currently in a state to offer much of anything.”

He smiled slightly. It made Sarah happy to see him in a better condition than how she had found him.

“You could tell me your name.”

This time it was the man who looked around nervously. His apprehension did not go undetected.

I knew it. Sarah thought to herself. He’s a dangerous criminal.

“My name-” the man paused for a second, but Sarah gave him some grace and credited the pause to him being injured and most likely in pain still. He continued. “My name is Benjamin Brewster.”

Sarah nodded, accepting the name, though she was still suspicious. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

The man said nothing at first. “Could- could you tell me where that is exactly?”

“You don’t know where you are?”

Benjamin shook his head. “I hit my head pretty hard and- well, it’s all just a bit fuzzy I suppose.”

“You’re in Havensbrook, New York.”

“Havensbrook?”

“Not far from New Jersey. I’m not surprised you don’t know it. We don’t get many visitors or attention at all until I found you in my family’s barn.”

Sarah’s voice was beginning to take on the slightest hint of sterness and aggression. From the little she was learning about this man, it would take a lot to convince her that he could be trusted.

She continued questioning him. “I found you in here with a bullet in your side and now you’re telling me you don’t even know where you are. Just before I found you, an officer and some men came to my house saying that they were looking for a fugitive. It does not take a genius to piece these things together.”

Sarah watched as Benjamin’s face paled. She kept going.

“Now, tell me, Mr. Brewster, who are you and why do is a British officer looking for you?”

“I-I’m sorry to have caused you any trouble,” he said apologetically, “That must have been Lieutenant Gamble. He’s the same man who shot me.”

“And why would he do that?”

“I was trying to escape from him. He… he came to my farm and demanded that I give him a share of my crops… as a tax to the King, he said. I told him that I refused. He started asking whose side I was on and when I told him that I was on no side and that I did not believe in this war at all. As you may imagine, he did not take too kindly to that answer and he beat me and decided I needed to be taken away in order to pay for my insolence. I-”

Benjamin became choked up. Sarah knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. She did not expect him to get so emotional, but hearing his story, she could understand.

“I’m so sorry,” she tried consoling him. “That-that’s terrible. War truly does terrible things to a man.”

Benjamin looked up at her. “I take it you do not support either side.”

She shook her head. “I’m a Quaker. I do not support anyone in any war.”

He nodded. “I am so grateful to have been saved by someone with the same values as me.”

Sarah looked around.

“No one else can know that you’re here. Not even my family. You’ll have to hide during the day. If you’re well enough to climb, I can try to make you a bed in the hayloft where you’ll be better hidden and more comfortable.”

Benjamin tried to stand up and realized he had not done anything more than sit up since he dragged himself into the barn and collapsed the night before. He got to his feet but even that was too much and he winced in pain as he felt a sharp pinch in his side where the stitches were.

“Let me help you,” Sarah rushed to her feet and put his arm over her shoulder.

The two of them slowly walked to the ladder that led to the loft. Ben looked up with apprehension but was determined to make it and not have to rely on someone else.

Sarah noticed the look on his face. “I’ll help you up,” she insisted. “I wish there was a better option but we cannot risk someone else seeing you.”

Ben did his best to climb up to the hayloft, taking several breaks in between and nearly collapsing when he reached the top. Sarah went to his side as he began to fall and helped him up. They walked together to a corner of the hayloft.

“Stay here as long as you need to,” she told him. “It will take some time for you to heal, and I’m not sure when Lieutenant Gamble and his men will leave.”

Ben was too weak to speak. Sarah guided him to lie down and he followed with no protest.

Sarah paused and chewed her lip. Ben looked at her with confusion.

“I… I need to change the dressing on your wound.”

“Oh,” Ben managed hoarsely. He was aware of the uncomfortableness of the situation. This woman had seen him shirtless before, but now that he was conscious, it made it all the more awkward. He lifted his shirt enough to display the wound. He looked away, hoping that would make the situation less awkward, and because he was a bit squeamish, though he hated to admit it.

Sarah was uncomfortable asking a stranger to lift his shirt, but she tried not to think about it. She was simply attending to his wound, nothing more. She bit her lip as she removed the bandage and inspected the wound. It did not look infected and it felt warm to the touch, which was a good sign. She felt Benjamin shiver as her fingers delicately touched his skin surrounding her stitches.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I-I just-”

“No, no, the apology is all mine,” Sarah insisted. “My hands are rather cold. I’ll try to be quick.”

Ben looked away again and Sarah continued working. She checked the wound again before wrapping his abdomen to keep the wound clean.

“You must be freezing,” she observed as she stood up, purposely distancing herself after the rather intimate interaction. “I’ll get you some blankets as soon as I can.”

“Thank you… again. You have done so much for me.”

Sarah smiled. “It’s the least I can do. I could not bear for another life to be taken by this war, especially someone with no part in it.”

Ben grimmaced and Sarah noticed.

“I’ll try to bring something for the pain,” she promised, not suspecting any reason for his face besides the bullet wound in his side. “You’ve been through so much. I must be getting back to my chores, but I’ll be back before nightfall. Just try to keep quiet.”

Ben nodded and closed his eyes, trying to rest and drown out the immense guilt he felt.

* * *

Ben’s sleep was disturbed by flashes of the events that brought him here.

The body floating in the river.

The sound of his shots that killed the preacher.

Gamble’s voice.

  
The burst of pain as Gamble’s bullet entered Ben’s side.

The preacher’s body once again.

The faces of all those Ben had lost in this war.

The faces of all those who Ben had killed.

Ben jolted from his fitful sleep, his body soaked with sweat. He heard the sound of milking and peeked over the edge of the hayloft to see the woman who saved him busy working. He realized he never even asked for her name. He already felt wracked with guilt just for being in her barn. And with Lieutenant Gamble, Ben had put this woman and her family in danger.

And he did not even know her name.

He tried to go back to sleep, but was again plagued by disturbing images. Gamble’s face loomed before him. Ben shuddered, suddenly much colder than before. He hoped the woman would return soon with blankets, but he could not bear to ask for anything or complain in the slightest. She had saved his life and he was eternally indebted to her.

Thinking about her gave Ben some peace from the nightmares and he soon drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all my readers and extra big thank you to those who have left kudos and extra extra big thank you to all who have left comments! Tbh I started this fic awhile ago but did not post it until recently and I really did not expect anyone to read it and I was not gonna continue it until I saw the feedback! Y'all make this all worth it!
> 
> Also a few notes- Havensbrook is a place I made up. It's possible there is a real place somewhere called Havensbrook, but if there is, it has no connection to the setting of this story. I was trying to steer away from the canon so I thought it wouldn't make sense to have this fic take place in Franklin Township like the show does. Plus, I am too busy/lazy to do research on a real place. For the purpose of this fic, Havensbrook is a small town somewhere in NY close to NJ. The population is a mix of Quakers and non-Quakers. That's pretty much all the important stuff.
> 
> If you have not noticed yet, I'm playing with the timeline a bit. In the show, Gamble showed up long after Ben had been found, but I'm just trying to add some more ~drama~ and it's a fan fic so a lot of things are going to be different. That's life, babes.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading! I appreciate any and all feedback and it really helps me to keep writing!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I am playing a bit with the timeline and small details, otherwise this would be pretty boring. I realize that my character has the same first name as the person who rescues Ben in the show, but I just like the name Sarah lol. Other than name and saving Ben, the two have very little in common.


End file.
